On That Dizzy Edge
by Accio Troian
Summary: Not mine, just posting here so i can convert to .EPUB to read on my iPad, All creddits to the author, Cheers!
1. Chapter 1

Everyone knows. It takes two days, and everyone knows. Santana is trying to walk tall - Rachel can tell - but her eyes are sad and she's hardly talking to anyone. She's certainly not talking to Brittany, and Rachel honestly doesn't know who else the girl has.

She understands it. Not first hand, of course, but she knows what Santana is going through, to a degree. How many times has she publicly declared her feelings, only to be shot down? She serenades Finn on a semi-regular basis and he's still only talking to her when he has to. It's not fair and it feels terrible, and she knows that what Santana is feeling has to be much, much worse because there's all these other things that come with it, like confusion and realizations, and it's not a contest, but if it were Santana would win.

Rachel is not an expert. She's 16 and she knows she's very informed on a lot of issues. She and Kurt have had some conversations about sexuality and relationships and crushes and boys. That doesn't mean she knows what it's like to have feelings for your best friend like either he or Santana have felt or are feeling. She doesn't know what it's like to have people call you a dyke or a fag behind your back, and though she has been called plenty of names in the past few years, none of them were like that. And just because she's got gay parents doesn't mean she knows everything there is to know.

It's just that no one else is talking to Santana at all, and this feels all very similar to what happened with Kurt. She may not like Santana all that much, a lot of the time, but she doesn't want the girl to leave. She's very talented and, when she's not being mean, quite funny, and Rachel thinks it would be a terrible shame if Santana transferred to another school, or worse.

She approaches Santana after Pre-Calc, which they have together, and touches the girl's shoulder from behind to get her attention.

"What?" Santana snaps before even looking to see who is there.

"Can we talk for a second?" Rachel asks, looking around to see if anyone is listening. For Santana's sake, she doesn't want there to be any eavesdroppers. Since Jacob practically stalks her, she has to keep an eye out for microphones.

"Why?"

"Because..." Rachel looks at the girl's face. "Because."

Santana sighs and looks incredibly disinterested. "Fine. Go."

Rachel shifts her weight and holds her books to her chest. "I just want to apologize for what I said after your performance," she says. Santana tenses, which is silly, really, but Rachel can understand why it happens. Whether the girl wants to admit it or not, she has a heart and it's a little broken right now. "It was insensitive."

"Thanks," Santana says after a minute. She turns to walk away, but Rachel doesn't want to let her.

"Wait!" Santana turns around again, rolling her eyes. "I know we're not friends, and that most of the time you're generally annoyed by my...everything." Santana actually laughs, so Rachel smiles just a little, even though it's not funny at all. "I just...I don't want you to feel like you can't talk to anyone. I'm probably the last person on the list, but, should everyone else turn their backs on you..." She shrugs one shoulder and meets Santana's eyes. "I won't."

Santana looks confused. "Why?"

"Because," Rachel says. It's not an answer. Mostly, she just can't really pick one of the many reasons why she'll be there. And if she said one or two out loud, Santana would probably scoff at it and call her delusional or something for thinking the girl needs help.

"Whatever."

Santana leaves and Rachel takes a breath and hopes that at least one of her points landed.

Rachel watches Finn and Quinn talking and Santana watches Brittany and Artie talking, and she's pretty sure their feelings are at least close to the same level. Santana catches Rachel's eye across the room, then looks away a second later.

So maybe they understand one another more than anyone really thinks.

She's got only a day to perfect this and present it to Mr. Schuester, and she knows that if it's not the best she can make it, he'll say no and they'll do a cover of some pop or rock song and it'll be good, but nothing special. They need to be special to win, and she refuses to lose. Refuses to. This year has been mostly terrible, except for the very beginning of it, and she needs this. She needs something to make her feel like she's not wasting all her time.

She's sitting at her keyboard in her room and has just finished recording the song on her laptop. It's the best version she's put down yet, and she's happy with it. Of course, she's hoping Mr. Schue will let her perform it live for the group so they can see and hear the emotion in it, but he may not even want anyone else to hear it. She doesn't know what she'll do if he doesn't like it. Her whole life these past few weeks has been writing these songs - which has been incredibly therapeutic, actually - and she knows they're good. She wouldn't turn them in if she didn't think New Directions could win with them.

She's listening to the ballad on her headphones and the door opens a crack, so she pulls them off and looks at her daddy.

"Sweetie," he says quietly, like he's being sensitive to something. He pushes the door open all the way and Santana is behind him with red eyes and her arms folded around herself.

The way he looks at her lets her know that the normal rules of having friends over after 8:00 on a school night do not apply. Actually, they really only applied when she was with Finn or Jesse or Noah. Funny how that works.

He leaves and closes the door behind him, and Santana stands there awkwardly. Rachel feels incredibly silly to be wearing her Hello Kitty pajamas right now, but Santana isn't even making fun of her for them, so she knows something is going on.

"I don't know why I'm here," Santana says defensively, before Rachel even asks. "Or why I even remembered where you live."

"You were here two weeks ago."

Santana glares. She looks around the room like she's judging it. "I broke up with Sam. Actually, he broke up with me. You know, officially. It's not like he's really been around me all that much in the past week. Dick."

Rachel doesn't know what to say about that. Noticeably, Sam has been pulling away. She supposes that makes sense, however she thinks he should have had the guts to just end it before now.

"Oh."

"Yeah. And I'm not like, crying over him or anything. It was just kind of nice to have someone, you know?" Santana asks.

Rachel smiles, a little sadly. "I know."

"So now Brittany's not talking to me, or I'm not talking to her or whatever, and Sam dumped me, and Quinn's a bitch." Santana meets Rachel's eyes for that part. She's glad they can agree upon it. "So, hey."

Rachel laughs. She's the last person on the list, but she's still on the list.

"Hi."

"What're you doing? I thought you just fucked around on piano. You actually play?" Santana asks. It looks like the tears have stopped. Rachel doesn't mind crying, but of course, she doesn't want Santana to feel like she has to do it.

She doesn't want to switch conversations this quickly, though.

"I play," Rachel says. Actually, she's been playing since she was four, and normally she'd point that out, but it doesn't seem that important at the momen, and Santana probably doesn't really care anyway. "Did Sam say anything?"

Rachel moves to sit on the bench at the end of her bed, and Santana pulls up Rachel's desk chair, sits down and pulls her legs up and folds them together. She's wearing tight black workout pants with a red band around the waist, and a gray hoodie. She's cried all her makeup off and her hair is down. She still manages to look sickeningly beautiful. Rachel would kill to be that naturally stunning. That's not something she's going to say out loud, but she thinks it in that moment.

"Not really. He said he doesn't get me and that I need to figure myself out," Santana says. Rachel nods, because that doesn't sound all that terrible or inaccurate. "I'm not gay."

Rachel very carefully asks, "Are you sure?" and waits for Santana to scream and/or storm out.

The girl just shrugs and rolls her eyes. "No." Rachel nods and they sit there in silence for a few minutes. She can hear her clock ticking the seconds off. "I told Brittany I love her."

Oh. Rachel had heard there'd been discussions, but had no idea it went that deep, to be honest.

"I didn't know," Rachel says, because it seems like the safest thing. "Do you?"

"Yeah," Santana admits quietly. She takes a breath.

"Okay," Rachel says. She wonders what her dads would say in this situation if they were witnessing it. "What did she say?"

"She loves Artie," Santana snaps. Clearly she's not happy about it. Rachel can't blame her one bit. "It's stupid. Who falls in love with their best friend?"

"A lot of people."

"Straight people."

Rachel shakes her head. "A lot of people, Santana." She laughs at herself. "I fell in love with my only friend. What does that say about me?"

Santana laughs loudly and wipes at her eyes. Rachel doesn't mention the tears and she won't. To anyone. This is strange, Santana showing up at her house, but if the girl somehow trusts her enough to talk like this, Rachel isn't going to betray that. She wishes she had someone to talk to who she knew for sure wouldn't sell her out. She can say things to Kurt and Mercedes, but given that Kurt shares a house with Finn and everything else with everyone else, she doesn't totally trust him not to spill her secrets. And Mercedes still seems to not like her some of the time and Rachel doesn't need to give anyone ammunition against her.

"Finn's an idiot."

Rachel could comment on Brittany not being incredibly bright, but she doesn't. She doesn't think Santana is talking about his book smarts anyway. If she's hearing things correctly, that statement may have been a compliment. Like maybe he's an idiot for not loving Rachel back.

He's never said he doesn't, but at this point it's just easier to believe it.

"What are you going to do?" Rachel asks after a moment.

"Don't know," Santana says. "What are you doing?"

Rachel laughs again. She's distracting herself with music. It's what she does most often, actually. "Part of me still believes Finn and I will work it out."

"Part?" Santana asks, looking at Rachel warily.

She sighs. "Part of me thinks he'll just keep picking everyone else over me."

"What if he does?"

It's nearly a whisper. Rachel hates that her heart breaks a little, for both of them.

"Then...I guess he's not the one," Rachel admits. Santana takes another heavy breath, then laughs when she realizes that they're both crying. "I didn't mean to make us cry."

"Doesn't take much," Santana comments. "This heartbreak shit sucks." Rachel laughs again and dabs her eyes with her fingertips. "I can't believe I'm about to thank you for listening to me right now."

They both giggle and Rachel actually feels good about this. Of course, she'd rather they weren't both heartbroken and crying, but she almost feels like they're possibly...Well, not friends, not yet. But they're closer and no one has insulted anyone else or insinuated anyone's a stripper or a hermaphrodite, so she considers that progress.

"I told you I would," Rachel says. Santana nods.

"I should go. I bet your dads think I'm a psycho," Santana says, standing up. "Then again, they live with you so they have to be used to it." Rachel rolls her eyes. Well, they went at least that long without a jab. "Keep practicing or whatever."

"I wasn't practicing," Rachel says. She's not sure why. "I finished...I was writing."

"Oh yeah. You actually did that?" Santana asks. Yes, she supposes maybe a lesser person would have been discouraged when no one showed support for her idea.

Rachel looks back to her keyboard and then to her laptop, open to her recording software.

"Do you want to hear it?" she asks. No one else has, not even her dads. She thinks maybe this offer has something to do with the fact that Santana just basically spilled all her current struggle in Rachel's bedroom. Rachel's struggle is explained in this song and she wants someone to hear it.

Santana doesn't look particularly interested, actually, but she says, "Yeah. Fine."

Santana won't look at her while the piano starts, but then Rachel's voice fills the room on the recording and she glances up. She thinks it takes a lot to impress Santana Lopez, but that's the expression she's watching right now. The chorus ends and Rachel sees Santana's eyes are full again, and she looks down as the second verse starts. Rachel isn't all that great at recording or anything yet, so it's just her, and the vocal arrangement she has for the end of the song isn't represented on this version. She could have played around with it and layered her own harmonies, but she's got the notations for the choir, so they'll be okay.

She's justifying all this in her head as the song ends, because she's incredibly nervous to hear Santana's reaction.

There's dead air in the room and Santana is just sitting there, and Rachel's almost ready to start crying. Or possibly vomit.

"God," Santana says. Rachel looks up. "That's really fucking good."

She gets goosebumps. Rachel smiles and knows she looks far too hopeful, and she pulls her sleeves down over her hands because she has goosebumps. "Really?"

"Uh huh," Santana says, nodding.

Rachel breathes out her relief and closes her eyes for a second.

They're just sitting here after this kind of strange conversation and 'moment', or whatever you want to call it, and she thinks there's no better person to harmonize with her. Santana knows what all this feels like. She understands the meaning behind the song and seems genuinely affected by it. And there's something poetic about the first person to hear the song being the one to sing on it.

"Will you sing it with me?" Rachel asks bluntly.

She braces herself for a rejection that doesn't come.

She's crying when they're announced as the winners. Everyone hugs her. She remembers hugging two people. Finn and Santana. Finn because, well, he's Finn. Santana because she's got tears in her eyes, too.

They hold up the trophy, just the two of them, and Rachel laughs for nearly 10 minutes, elated or surprised or overwhelmed. Possibly all three and more.

Santana says, "This is fucking awesome," once they're back in their street clothes and ready to board the bus.

They sit together because practically everyone else is paired off, and mostly talk about how amazing they both are, and Rachel thinks that is a perfect and totally fitting descriptor.

Santana shows up at Rachel's locker before Pre-Calc on Monday wearing a short, tight skirt that matches her headband, and starts talking about something to do with her parents. Rachel is slightly confused by it, but says nothing and just starts walking to class. With Santana. They sit next to one another and Rachel is smiling.

She kind of has a friend.

Finn finally admits that he and Quinn have been seeing one another. Rachel doesn't take it very well.

"He's a cock," Santana announces, walking into Rachel's room. Uninvited. Her dads aren't home and the door was locked.

"How did you get in?"

"Doesn't matter. What matters is that Finn is a cock and you shouldn't be crying right now."

Rachel turns so her back is to the girl. "I'd like to be alone."

"Yeah, well, you can't always get what you want," Santana says, sitting down on the bed.

Rachel's first thought is of Finn and Sectionals last year.

Her second is that Santana is absolutely right. She shouldn't be laying here wallowing, with tears on her face over a boy who keeps breaking her heart. He only keeps hurting her because she keeps going back for more. She keeps letting him do it, and she knows him; he'll do it until she stops. Then he'll probably come after her because he misses it (he'll say he misses her) and he'll just assume that she's going to drop everything (and possibly anyone) to be with him again, just because he snaps his fingers.

She is no longer going to be the stupid girl who lets him do that.

They go shopping for something - or possibly not, because all they seem to be doing is walking around the mall sipping their latt s, but whatever - and as they're approaching a lingerie store Rachel is admittedly a little terrified to enter, they see Sam walking towards them holding a Hollister bag in one hand and a Gap bag in the other. She's surprised how well Sam and Santana are getting along after their breakup; it's kind of like they never dated. Actually, they only really dated for like, three weeks or something, so she figures it wasn't that important a relationship.

Santana makes him open his shopping bags to prove he's not buying another plaid shirt, and Rachel just laughs when he says, "You can't boss me around anymore, Santana," and she replies, "Uh, yeah, I can." They talk for a bit and Santana mentions the lingerie store. Rachel blushes as Santana invites him along, and he gives Rachel a little smile and says that he has to get going because he's picking his brother up from indoor soccer and his mom'll kill him if he's late again. (Rachel gathers from his tone that the last time he was late was because of Santana.)

He's barely out of earshot when Santana says, "You should go out with him. Your combined geekiness would probably make me wanna vom, and it'd be like a giant mouth convention any time you kissed, but whatever. He's a good guy."

"I'm not looking to date anyone right now."

"So?"

It takes Rachel a while to even come close to figuring out how that's anything remotely near an argument.

She's mostly thinking about how maybe Santana is right.

She goes on two dates with Sam. It's kind of miraculous that they make it to the second date, actually, considering how awkward the first one is. They go to dinner and realize very quickly that they've hardly ever talked and don't really know much about one another, other than what's on the surface. And, okay, he seems to know an awful lot of lies about her that she knows for a fact came from Quinn. Bitch.

She claps her hand over her mouth when she says that word, and he just laughs. He says, "Santana," like that's the explanation for her poor language. He's right, actually. She tries to be more comfortable with him, and he's very laid back, so it's easy. There aren't an awful lot of vegan options on the menus of the few affordable restaurants in town, but he very wisely suggests ways to amend regular items on there and customize them to her needs. It's sweet that he cares enough to think about that. Finn could never really understand that no, regular bread is not vegan, and nor is cheese or yoghurt. He always had trouble with that.

She's going to stop comparing them.

No one other than Santana knows about their date. Rachel doesn't want Quinn coming after her, because yes, the girl is enough of a hypocrite to do it. She also doesn't want expectations put on them or anything, and as much as Santana is pressuring her to 'at least make out, for the love of god' with Sam, Rachel knows she's not being pushed into doing anything out of character.

Their second date is better. He takes her to his favourite used book store and they get coffee at the little shop inside and stroll through the stacks. He tells her about his favourite books and asks her about hers. She thinks it's a little geeky that he's so into sci-fi, but she doesn't make fun of him for it, and he doesn't make fun of her for owning all the Gossip Girl books or reading a ton of biographies.

By the end of the night she's decided they're just better off as friends, and he agrees when she says that (very nervously). It's nice to have a boy friend, one who there are no underlying feelings with, who maybe she can count on for things. And she likes that it seems like he wants a friend just as much as she does. It's sweet.

Santana comes over and they sit in Rachel's room and talk about it, and Santana says, "Well, damn, no wonder you don't want to date him. He took you to a fucking book store," and Rachel laughs and insists it was actually a lot of fun. "Whatever. It's because you're both losers."

She doesn't say it because she thinks it's true anymore, she says it with this kind of fondness that Rachel likes a lot.

They watch some stupid reality show on MTV that Rachel hates and Santana loves because all these people are trainwrecks and their lives are 'more fucked up' than hers.

"It's a good thing you called me," Santana says casually. "I was like, two seconds from calling Puck. It's been so long."

Rachel is stunned and doesn't know what to say to this. Santana has been struggling with not only her sexuality, but her self esteem (she hasn't admitted it, but it's very apparent) and Rachel thought that her not having casual sex with Noah or anyone else was progress, giving herself time to figure out what she's doing and what she wants and who she is.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Rachel asks delicately.

"Um, hell yeah. Puck's good. Like, really good. An orgasm's an orgasm."

"But you like girls," Rachel says.

Santana shrugs. "Sometimes. I still don't know what the fuck is up with that."

"So you're bisexual?"

"Maybe." Santana rolls her eyes. "Look, whatever. I just like, need to be with someone."

"No, you don't," Rachel argues. "You're not desperate."

Santana looks at her strangely and she thinks maybe she's overstepped. Also, she kind of said that last part angrily, but that's because it's true and she wants Santana to know it. She doesn't need Noah or sex or any other person. What she needs is to love and understand herself before she really lets anyone else try. And if all she wanted was an orgasm, she could...well, there are other ways.

"I know that," Santana says defensively.

Rachel hates this argument, because it's mostly stupid. They're both kind of saying the same thing, but not saying the same thing.

"Good," Rachel insists. "Start acting like it."

Santana glares, and Rachel knows she's definitely crossed a line this time. It's really not her place to be so bossy and demanding and, well, motherly. She sounded like she's Santana's parent or something, and that isn't going to go over well.

Santana doesn't say anything rude or awful (it's a surprise) before she gets up and leaves the room. Rachel doesn't hear from her for the rest of the weekend.

Rachel is walking down the hall with Noah because he very literally ran into her in the hallway when he was walking backwards and talking to Artie, not watching where he was going. He nearly knocked her over, but spun around and grabbed her before she could lose her balance. Now he's walking with her and talking about how short her skirt is and how everyone would have seen her ass if she'd fallen.

Instead of being offended like she should be, she laughs and lets her hair fall in her face so he can't see her blushing.

She looks up and sees Santana watching them, but the girl looks away when she notices Rachel sees her.

They run into one another before glee, and Santana crosses her arms and leans her shoulder against the lockers they're standing next to.

"Look, do you like Puck?" Rachel is so shocked that she all she can do is stare at Santana, wide-eyed. "Because you got really pissed and bitchy the other night when I brought up sleeping with him, and today...It just looks like you're into him."

"Noah and I are friends," Rachel insists.

Santana shakes her head, looks at Rachel like she's not fooling anyone. "He made you all girly and shit. Like Finn used to."

To be honest, Rachel hasn't given Noah much thought since they performed together after the holidays, after she and Finn's breakup. She was using him then and it wasn't fair, but he never asked her to apologize and actually seemed pretty okay with it. Yes, she finds him attractive, especially now that he's making an effort to be a good student and person and teammate. But she doesn't have feelings for him.

"He made a disgusting comment about my skirt. That's all," Rachel says.

Santana grins and looks Rachel up and down. "That thing is short. He notices that shit."

"That's because he's constantly thinking about sex," Rachel hisses. "I did date him, remember?"

"I know. I fucking hated you for it." Rachel rolls her eyes. "Look, it's fine if you do. I'm not gonna be pissed this time."

"I don't."

"Okay."

Then they're dancing during rehearsal and Santana full on hip checks Rachel into Noah. She lands hard against his chest and his arms go around her to steady her, and she's torn between smiling up at him or glaring at Santana.

"You gotta stop making me catch you," he says low in her ear.

Santana is grinning like a maniac and Rachel hates them both.

Santana invites her to this party and will not take no for an answer, even though she has a very, very good idea of what's going to happen as soon as she arrives.

It doesn't matter anymore that she and Santana are friends. People tend to just ignore that at school. Walking into a house party in jeans and a sweater Santana insisted she borrow? That is a very different story, obviously.

"Santana, I don't think..."

"Shut up, Rachel. No one cares."

"They're staring."

"That's because you look hot. Let's find you a drink."

Santana grabs her wrist and pulls, so she ends up in the kitchen with Brittany, Noah and Sam, and she feels more out of place than she ever has, even worse than last summer when Finn took her to a party at Noah's house.

She drinks what she's told is a vodka and orange juice, but it tastes more like rubbing alcohol than anything else, and she takes tiny sips just because she knows Santana will yell at her (literally) if she doesn't.

She loses Santana to a conversation with Brittany about 45 minutes into the evening, which is unfortunate, because about five minutes after that Finn and Quinn walk through the door. They're holding hands and talking to one another like there aren't other people around watching them now, and Quinn smiles and Finn kisses her hair and then notices Rachel. The smile slips from his face, and Quinn looks immediately annoyed, which Rachel really resents, because she didn't even do anything. Suddenly standing between Noah and Sam doesn't seem like enough of a buffer. She discreetly starts taking bigger gulps of her drink, until it's all gone and Sam's offering her a refill.

Finn catches her coming out of the washroom after her second drink. She looks up at him and tries to walk away, wants to, but her feet betray her by not moving.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, like she's personally offending him by daring to spend a Friday evening in the same house as him.

And suddenly 'Santana dragged me' doesn't seem like a good enough excuse. Frankly, she's wondering where her backbone went. Is she just doing what her friend wants her to do, because she finally has a friend? Maybe there's a part of her that's worried that if she doesn't do what Santana wants, they'll drift apart again and Santana will go back to making her life hell. It's stupid, really, and she likes to think she knows Santana well enough at this point to know that won't happen, but it's there in the back of her mind. Their friendship started up so abruptly that it's hard to believe it couldn't - or won't - end the same way.

"Will you tell Quinn to stop glaring at me?" she says instead of answering him. He looks confused, like he really hasn't noticed it. "I'm beginning to wonder how it doesn't actually hurt her to do it for so long."

"Rach."

"Finn, I don't appreciate the insinuation that I'm not allowed to..."

"I didn't say that."

She rolls her eyes, which he's probably never seen directed at him, and goes to pass him, but he grabs her arm. It doesn't hurt, but it's not a welcome touch in the slightest, so she whimpers.

"Yo, don't fucking touch her." Rachel looks to the end of the hall and sees Santana standing there. She's not exactly ready to spring into action and throw punches, and obviously Finn isn't doing anything to Rachel that's incredibly offensive (other than toying with 90 per cent of her emotions). "Seriously. Leave her alone. You're here with your girlfriend, remember? She's the one in there acting like she's better than everyone else." Finn lets go of Rachel's arm, but stands there looking at Santana as though he's attempting to craft a very witty response to what she's said. Rachel knows he's incapable. "Did I stutter? Move it, Hudson."

He does, and Rachel could say thank you to her friend, but she's still not impressed that Santana would just leave her like that. Sure, she gets along well enough with Sam and Noah, but she doesn't know how to be around drunk people (unless, apparently, she's drunk herself) and she didn't agree to come here so she could be ignored by her one true friend. This whole evening has made her question just how good a friend Santana is to her. She knows she's a good friend to Santana, but what about the other way around? She hates that she always ends up giving more than she gets, and she really wants to believe it won't always be this way.

"Hey," Santana says with her brow furrowed as Rachel tries to walk past. "You okay?"

"I'd really like to go home. I'm going to call Daddy for a ride."

"You don't...I'll take you, okay? If you want to go. You shouldn't...Look, he's just an idiot."

"This isn't about him," Rachel says, looking to the floor. This top is more low cut than she's used to wearing and she can see part of the cup of her pink cotton bra poking up past the black fabric. She adjusts it while she's looking. "I didn't expect you to hold my hand all night or anything, but I was already nervous to come, and you've spent the past hour and a half with your real friend."

Santana looks confused and annoyed and kind of angry. Rachel doesn't regret what she's said, because it's the way she feels and it's also the truth. "I didn't think you'd care," Santana says.

It just makes Rachel question how well they really know each other. It's ridiculous of her to expect Santana to read her mind, but why didn't she just know Rachel would care?

"Don't worry," says Rachel, throwing on a smile and reaching into her pocket for her phone. "I'll just call Daddy. I don't want to ruin your night."

"You're not..."

"I really just want to go home."

She feels a ball in her throat and she is not going to cry at this stupid party. She swallows it down and watches Santana nod and walk away. Rachel doesn't feel it necessary to say goodnight to anyone on her way to the front of the house. It takes her daddy 10 minutes to arrive, and she pulls her coat around herself tighter before getting into the car. He asks if she's okay, and she nods her head and just says that everyone was drinking and she didn't want to. The look he gives her lets her know that not only does he see that something else happened, but that she definitely had a drink (two) herself.

She's reading in her bed when she gets a text from Santana two hours later that just reads Sorry you didn't have fun. I shouldn't have made you come.

Rachel types back that it's fine (she's not sure it is) and tells Santana to make sure she and Brittany get home safely. She turns off her phone and switches off the light.

Santana is waiting on the porch when Rachel steps outside to go to school Monday morning. She's looking incredibly bored and her car is parked in the driveway on a bit of an angle. Rachel expected to drive herself to school today, and she and Santana don't even have a schedule for this kind of thing. She's sure that if they did, Rachel would still insist on driving herself to school on Mondays. She doesn't like to be late, and she likes to set a good tone for the rest of the week. That often means getting to school early and organizing her locker, tidying up and returning library books, if she has any, before the first bell.

"So, like, Brittany is my Finn," Santana states. She's got black liner around her eyes and a frosty-looking pink lip gloss on. Rachel distantly thinks it's nice when Santana wears her makeup like this, just light, yet still accenting her best features.

But still.

"What?"

"Know how Finn jerks you around? Britt does that to me. And the fucked up thing - for both of them - is that they don't even realize they're doing it, which is kind of the shittiest thing about it, right?"

Well, yes. That is the worst part. Rachel feels like if Finn had any idea how she feels every time he talks to her solely to remind her they're not together and she's no longer really a welcome party in his life, he wouldn't be so quick to try and get her alone. He treats her heart like something he accidentally bumps into when he happens to be standing too close, and while he might apologize, it's really too little, too late.

"Where is this coming from?" Rachel asks as she walks down the steps. If Santana's offering her a ride, she's going to take it. No need to drive two cars to school when one will do. "What happened Friday night?"

"We spent like, all night talking and stuff, like...Well, whatever." Santana climbs into the driver's seat and turns on the engine, cranks the heat up a bit more. "Then like, a half hour before her curfew, she's all over Artie again."

That really isn't very nice, Rachel knows, and it's not fair of Brittany to just expect Santana to be nothing more than a friend when she knows how the girl feels. Rachel's and Santana's situations are really remarkably similar.

Even so; "Well, Artie is her boyfriend."

Santana glares before backing out of the driveway. "Yeah, thanks for reminding me, you bitch." Rachel giggles, because there's really no bite to Santana's words at all. "I should have expected it. I guess I'm the fucking idiot here."

"You're not," Rachel says quietly, pulling the hem of her skirt down over her thighs. "You just want something you can't have. Feeling unimportant is an unfortunate side-effect of that."

Santana glances at Rachel and steers them out of the neighbourhood and onto the main road that'll take them to school. "Christ, that's depressing. Well, look. This weekend there's this party..."

"Santana, I think we've learned that I do not belong anywhere outside of school where..."

"Okay, fuck that, first of all." Santana glowers at the road because there's nothing else to glower at. "Quinn Fabray can choke on a dick and die, for real." Rachel laughs despite how incredibly vulgar that sentence was. "I mean, not really, 'cause she's liable to die a fucking born again, you know?"

"That's very offensive," Rachel chuckles.

"Whatever. Point is, fuck her if she thinks she has any say in what you do and who you hang out with. She's just jealous and paranoid that Finn's gonna change his mind again." Rachel knows that. It still doesn't help ease the fact that Quinn practically wants her dead. "I was gonna say that there's a party this week, and we're not going."

Rachel smiles. She's never had a friend to make plans with for weekends before. She doesn't mention it, because it's slightly depressing, and Santana will call her on getting all sentimental or something.

"What do you want to do?" Rachel asks.

"I dunno. You pick. Nothing fucking lame, or I bail."

After school on Friday, they go to dinner together, then Rachel drives them to this little book store a few towns over. She and her daddy found it last year on one of their silly little drives, but it's become one of her favourite places. It's a nice change from the big box, huge book stores. It's an independently owned shop with a caf next door that connects through a revolving door etched with quotes from books. And every Friday night, they showcase singer/songwriters from the area.

She wasn't sure this was something Santana would like, but as they sit there and drink their latt s, Santana turns to her, smiles just the slightest bit, and then turns her attention back to the man holding his guitar and singing about unrequited love.

Things go along smoothly for a while. They spend time at Rachel's house, mostly, when they're not at school. They inevitably argue about what to watch or what to listen to or the names Santana calls other people or the mean things she says. Santana picks on Rachel's vocabulary and intense passion ("Pain in the ass tunnel-vision bullshit!") with regards to glee club. Strangely enough, when they're 'not getting along', that's when they get along best. They're never going to be the kind of friends who agree on everything and spend all their time being sweet to one another and trading compliments. Rachel thinks Santana's beautiful, but that she tries too hard. Santana says Rachel's "hot, but fuck, you really need to scale back the amount of nana-knitted sweaters you wear, 'cause I swear I'm two seconds away from just pulling strings."

It's just how they work.

Santana is going to Noah's after school one day, and they're talking about it in front of Rachel, and at some point she realizes it's just a given that she's coming with them to play some unnecessarily violent video game with them in Noah's basement. "Where the weed is," he says, and then laughs when she loses her mind, because how could he possibly jeopardize his voice that way?

They make her sit in the back seat of Santana's car in an effort to tune her out, but really, they should know by now that she's just going to speak louder.

She's, unpredictably, very uncomfortable around his younger sister, who clearly has no use for Santana (and that feeling is mutual) and eyes Rachel like she's wondering just where this new girl came from.

"I'm in glee club with your brother," Rachel says, kneeling down a bit.

Hannah scowls and crosses her arms. "So?"

"Oh god. Don't even bother trying. She's like, a bigger ice queen than Quinn," Santana says, pulling Rachel along by the arm.

"Where do you think she learned it from?" Noah shouts from the kitchen.

Rachel doesn't mean to laugh. Hannah hears her and lets out some kind of indiscernible whiney noise.

Turns out? Rachel's really terrible at violent video games, and her constantly questioning her friends on why they're playing this will eventually annoy them enough that they'll change to something that doesn't turn regular children into everyday psychopaths.

It's an enjoyable afternoon. 


	2. Chapter 2

She's just trying to get to sleep on a Saturday night when the screen of her phone illuminates her room, and she squints her eyes to read the text message.

can you sneak out

It alarms her, because Santana is surprisingly well-spoken through text message, and generally uses proper capitalization and punctuation.

Not to mention the time of night.

I don't have to sneak out. Daddies trust me. Where are you?

She pulls on some sweats, instead of pajamas, and tip toes into her dads' room, wakes up her dad, the lighter sleeper of the two of them, and tells him Santana needs her and she's going to stay there. He sleepily tells her to drive safely and call in the morning.

Santana's sitting on the front steps to her house when Rachel pulls up. She'd had to program the address into her GPS because she's never been here before. The thought startles her.

Santana looks terrible. Rachel can't really place why, because the girl's still wearing the outfit she presumably went out in tonight, which is a very tight dress and not much else. She's not wearing shoes, though, and she's got tears streaming down her cheeks. Is it possible to feel underdressed for an SOS call in the middle of the night? If so, that's where Rachel's head is. She's likely trying to distract herself from the fear she's feeling over why Santana's called her over in the first place.

As she walks up the steps, Santana stands. Rachel gets a flash of the girl's robin's egg blue panties as she moves. That shouldn't make her blush, but it does. "Is it like, possible for you to be quiet? 'Cause my parents are sleeping," Santana says. It's the meanest thing she's said to Rachel in a while, but she lets it slide, because Santana is clearly upset.

Once they're in the girl's room, Rachel sits down at the end of the unmade bed and Santana starts moving around, getting a pair of pajamas from her dresser and pulling her messy hair up into a clip. She stumbles a bit on her own feet and Rachel realizes she probably had something (too much) to drink wherever she was before this. She desperately wants to know what's going on, but she doesn't want to ask, because she thinks she knows Santana well enough to realize that the girl will talk when she's ready to talk.

Santana unzips her dress at the side and pushes it down off her body. She's not wearing a bra and Rachel averts her eyes immediately, looking to her lap instead of at her friend's admittedly beautiful body.

Then she hears, "Oh, my god, virgin, I'm dressed now," in a tone that reminds her of the first two years of high school, and she feels something building in her throat and wants to leave right now if all Santana's going to do is be mean to her. "Would you please stop looking like it's torture to be sitting here? God."

"What do you want me to do, Santana?" Rachel asks, suddenly angry herself. "You called me over here and now all you're doing is taking your emotions, whatever they are, out on me." Santana rolls her eyes and leans back against her dresser. "And I'm sorry if I'm uncomfortable with you very randomly taking your clothes off in front of me."

"Whatever," Santana laughs. "It's just a body, Rachel."

"Maybe that's your problem," Rachel says, standing up abruptly. "You should respect yourself and others a little more."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"It's not just a body," Rachel snaps. She has no idea how she got so upset, but she is. "Maybe if you realized that there's more to a person than just skin and...and parts, and that people, yourself included, have actual emotions, you'd be a little happier and people would use you less." Santana just stares. Her lips part a bit, as if she's surprised, but she doesn't say anything. "And you should use them less, too."

"Fuck off," Santana says, indignant. "You think you know everything? Who the fuck are you to judge?"

Rachel isn't even sure that makes sense, but she's not going to point it out.

"I'm the person you called to come console you in the middle of the night, and now you're treating me like you're a million times better than me!"

That doesn't make sense either.

"So leave!"

"Fine!"

Rachel stomps towards the door (and that keep quiet request has clearly been forgotten), but Santana grabs her arm. "Fuck. I'm..." Rachel figures Santana isn't built for making proper apologies. "If you weren't so fucking right all the time, people would like you more."

"Well, sorry for having half a brain and more emotional depth than the people we go to school with," Rachel says, turning as she crosses her arms. "What do you want?"

"Can you put away the bitch act?"

"I don't know. Can you?" Rachel spits back. They lock eyes and Santana smiles first, and it's kind of contagious, and they both end up laughing as they stand there in Santana's big bedroom in the dim lighting.

"Probably not." Santana sits at the edge of her bed, then sighs and moves back so she's against the pillows, and tucks her legs under the covers.

"What happened tonight?" Rachel asks delicately, because apparently they're done fighting and Santana's ready to actually have a conversation.

"I tried to hook up with Puck." Rachel turns her head quickly to Santana, who pulls her top down and reveals a hickey on her breast. It's unnecessary, because Rachel would have believed her even without the evidence. "I..."

"You couldn't," Rachel states. Santana's chin trembles a bit and she shakes her head. "Because you're gay." She's not saying it to be a bitch, she's saying it so Santana will actually admit it. Which she does, with a nod of her head. She swipes at a tear and Rachel moves closer. "How do you feel?"

"I don't know."

"Did you tell Noah?"

Santana shakes her head. "I told him I felt like I was gonna puke and bailed. And I mean honestly, swallowing might have actually made me gag, so."

"Santana!" Rachel can feel how wide her eyes are, and she knows her skin is flushed. Either she needs to get more comfortable with hearing things like that, or Santana just needs to stop saying them.

"Fuck. Sorry. I forgot you aren't familiar with how he likes to finish." That's not helping. "I still can't believe you dated him for a whole week and a half and you're still a virgin. It's practically a sex miracle."

Rachel rolls her eyes and blows out her breath. "Can we please focus on your sexuality and not my romantic history?"

Santana wiggles down into her bed, then moves to the other side and pulls the covers back, inviting Rachel to lay down. She obviously expected to spend the rest of the night here, so she lays down and lets Santana cover her over with the blankets, even though she hates sleeping in clothes this heavy and she'll probably be too hot to have a restful REM sleep.

"I thought it was just Britt, you know?" Santana says after a minute, as she reaches over and turns off the light. "And I mean, Puck's the hottest guy in school and I know how fucking good he is, but it just wasn't...I couldn't even..."

"Please be as vague as possible," Rachel says seriously, making Santana laugh.

"I didn't feel anything," Santana admits.

Rachel doesn't know how this is going to go over, but she turns on her side and drapes her arm across Santana's body, right above her chest. She ends up lifting her leg up over Santana's thigh a bit, because it's very hard to hug someone when you're both laying down.

"You know it's going to be okay, right?" Rachel asks quietly as she pulls away. Her hand slides across Santana's shoulder and the girl squirms a bit.

"Yeah, I know," Santana insists. "It's just..."

"Go to sleep, okay?" Rachel suggests, getting a little more comfortable. And then because she thinks they need to lighten the mood; "You'll still be gay in the morning."

Santana laughs and puts her hand on Rachel's hip for a second, then leans over and kisses her shoulder through her sweatshirt before rolling away and turning her back to Rachel.

Rachel is standing right there on Monday morning when Santana asks Noah in the hallway whether or not he's pissed at her for not sleeping with him at the party. He says he's not, and Rachel believes him (Santana does, too) and that he just 'took care of it' himself before trying to find her and make sure she was okay. Rachel smiles, because if she ignores the dirty parts, that's actually kind of sweet. She thinks Santana and Noah have always been better friends than anything else. She also thinks Noah knows a lot more about Santana's situation than the girl wants to admit.

He walks them to the cafeteria, but the chivalry ends there, because he says they can 'buy their own damn coffee and shit', as he's not made of money.

Santana acts like nothing ever happened. Rachel asks her about it after school, and Santana shrugs her shoulder and says, "Why should I act any different now that I've got a label or whatever? That's fucking stupid, and totally like...Whatever. Way to perpetuate the stereotype of the gay teen, Rachel."

"Do you even know what you're saying?" Rachel giggles from the passenger seat.

Santana shrugs her shoulder, then they both laugh and Santana invites herself over for dinner, but neither Rachel nor her dads really mind at all.

They're sitting with Brittany, Mercedes and Tina, and all three of them are talking non-stop about prom. Rachel speculates that the only thing worse than this conversation right now would be if Quinn were here to be a completely obsessive maniac about prom.

Rachel used to think prom would be some kind of magic evening, with a dress matched to a boy's tie, and a corsage made of sweet pea or cherry blossoms. She actually thought she might have that, for a while. She and Finn had talked about it in the summer, what colour she might wear and what song he'd request for them to dance to. It was silly, probably, just time spent daydreaming in her room or wherever.

"I'm not going," Santana says as she tosses a Cheeto into her mouth. The four other girls stare at her. "What? I don't have a date. I'm not going alone, and it's super lame anyway."

"Take Puckerman," Mercedes says as she picks at her cuticle. She shrugs her shoulder when she looks up and sees the expression on Santana's face.

"You could," Rachel says, mostly just to be a brat. "I mean, he'd want to have sex with you at the end of the night."

"Please. That boy wants to have sex with any one of us right now," Mercedes laughs.

"True," Santana adds. "I'll probably just stay home and watch slasher movies or something. You know, like the anti-prom."

Rachel gasps. That's a brilliant idea! She doesn't necessarily want to go alone either and watch Quinn and Finn be crowned prom court and parade one another around like show dogs. She's already decided that Quinn would be a standard poodle and Finn something dopey. She hasn't picked a breed. There's a chance she's spent a little too much time thinking about this.

"I think that sounds like a great idea," she says, and Santana just laughs and shakes her head.

"You two are not ditching out on prom," Mercedes says indignantly. "I don't have a date either, and I'm going."

"Yeah, but you're a lo..." Rachel covers Santana's mouth with her hand before she can finish. She pulls it away after Santana rolls her eyes. "Whatever. If I'm going, Rachel's going."

"We should all go together!" Rachel cries, excitement coursing through her. "It'll be like...like, a triple friend date!"

"You're so lame it hurts me. It physically hurts me." Santana shakes her head. "If we're doing this shit, we're fucking not matching our dresses or anything gay like that."

Rachel doesn't mean to laugh. She presses her lips hard together and holds it in as best she can. "We could all do shades of pink," she suggests.

Santana gives her a look. "I don't do pink."

"You wore pink two days ago," Rachel points out. "Anyway, I love this idea."

Mercedes ends up being asked by Sam, and Santana makes fun of them both for far too long about it, considering she's been making fun of the Triple Friend Date since they agreed to do it. Rachel figures out pretty quickly that this is just her deflecting. Santana doesn't want to be exposed at prom just because she doesn't have a date, and tearing down other people is kind of just what Santana does when she's trying to take the attention off herself.

They're getting ready at Rachel's house, since Santana's dad apparently has work friends over for dinner or something. Santana's curling Rachel's hair and they're listening to Beyonc and talking about nothing, really. Well, talking about Finn and Quinn, and the fact that Brittany, Artie and Noah are all going to prom alone. Rachel sincerely hopes that Santana won't ditch her for Brittany halfway through the night. She knows that's selfish, but she doesn't exactly care. Santana doesn't talk a lot about her feelings for the blonde, but Rachel knows they're there and they're strong. Or at least that they were strong and they're not completely gone. She supposes that if Santana does end the night with someone else, Rachel can just find Noah and adopt him as her date. She's a little nervous about what it'd mean to be his prom date, though. Obviously they're friends and he'd never expect her to do anything, but he no doubt wants to end his night with a girl who'll let him take her dress off, and she'll feel uncomfortable keeping him from that.

She's thinking too much. They're supposed to be having fun.

"We don't have to do this, you know," she finds herself saying. Santana gives her a strange look in the mirror. "I mean, go together. If it's too much for you, or..."

"Shut up, Rachel. Girls go to proms together all the time and no one thinks anything of it. It's totally a double standard, too, 'cause look at Kurt and how hard it is for him to bring Blaine. Fucking bullshit."

"That's not what I'm saying."

Santana rolls her eyes and reaches for the rhinestone encrusted headband she picked out for Rachel at the mall. (It looks like a tiara, she'd said, and it'll piss Quinn off. Rachel can't say no to that. Besides, she likes sparkles.) She secures the headband without messing up Rachel's perfectly curled hair, and then gives it a healthy dose of hairspray and fiddles with the curls at the back of Rachel's head.

"I want to," Santana finally says, but she's not even looking at Rachel. "I think it's really fucking dumb that two girls as hot as ourselves didn't even get asked to prom. I mean, really, what is up with that? Is everyone gay?" Rachel laughs despite herself. "It'll be fun, and I won't have to worry about putting out at the end of the night."

So that's that.

The dance itself is fun, even if it is rather low-budget. Rachel has to actually hold Santana back from telling Quinn how incredibly cheap the entire place looks. They're seated at a table with Mercedes and Sam, Tina and Mike, and Noah. There's an empty chair, so Santana says she and Rachel will sit on either side of Noah so it doesn't look like he's a complete loser. Rachel doesn't know what it is, exactly, that he whispers in Santana's ear, but it makes her laugh and call him a horrible name, so Rachel figures being kept in the dark is best in this instance.

Noah brushes his hand over Rachel's backside when Finn and Quinn are announced as Prom King and Queen. Santana pushes his hand away.

The three of them leave before the night is over and end up at Denny's with Mike and Tina, sharing plates of fries and laughing about how this is the most fun they've had all night. Santana falls asleep next to Rachel in her bed, and Rachel's too tired to move away when Santana's hand lands on her stomach under the covers.

Nationals is a complete mess, because no one seems to understand that their level or unpreparedness is going to make them lose. Santana has this whole thing with Brittany, so even she's not an ally right now. Finn and Quinn are too wrapped up in their own little world to do much of anything productive, and Mike and Tina have been arguing since they got to the airport back home. The only people who seem to be taking this seriously whatsoever are herself and Kurt, and all the songs they attempt to write, the group calls out as 'too showy' or 'who said you two could sing the leads?'

She's frustrated beyond belief, and when her pen runs out of ink, she throws it across the room (narrowly missing Santana's head) and bursts into tears. And apparently that's enough to get Santana's attention for the first time since they got to the city, because she stands up and stalks across the room, grabs Rachel by the elbow and pulls her hard up out of her chair. She says, "I got this," to whoever in the room might actually care that Rachel's mid-breakdown (so probably no one) and pulls Rachel down the hall and straight into the stairwell, where she pushes her back against the concrete wall and says, "Breathe, you fucking psycho."

Rachel doesn't appreciate the name-calling, but she breathes anyway.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I wasn't aiming at you," Rachel says. And yes, she does believe it makes a difference in the whole situation. Santana just rolls her eyes. "It's just the stress of the competition."

She gets a glare for her lie. "Don't fucking bullshit me, Rachel. I mean, please, I know you well enough by now to..."

"No, you don't!" Rachel shrieks. It's not a flattering sound, and it's terrible for her vocal chords, and what's worse is that it echoes through the entire stairwell, from what she can tell. Santana is clearly taken aback. "You obviously have no idea how important anything is to me, if you can't even stop cuddling with Brittany long enough to take this competition seriously!"

"I'm not cuddling with anyone!"

"Well, you're certainly not helping me write a song, are you?" Rachel knows she's right, and she can see that Santana recognizes it, too. The girl doesn't break eye contact, but she doesn't say anything, either, which, with Santana, means she realizes she has nothing to say. "I don't even know why I bother."

Rachel pushes herself off the wall and starts back towards the door, but Santana stops her with, "What? Why you bother?"

Rachel tosses her hands up, then turns and glares. "You're clearly more interested in having sex with Brittany than in winning the competition. I guess I'll just have to pick up the slack and...and...save our asses. Again."

"I'm not trying to have sex with Brittany," Santana insists. It's actually really convincing; however, it's not the point right now. "Rachel, don't be..."

"No." Rachel puts her nose in the air a bit and crosses her arms. "Really, it's okay. I'm used to it by now. Maybe when we lose, which we will do, no matter what, since we left everything to the last minute and our director has been completely absent the last couple weeks, you'll all vote for me to receive some consolation trinket again."

"You're being such a bitch right now," Santana says, smiling bitterly as she shakes her head.

"Well, you're being a terrible friend."

Santana's face drains of colour and Rachel is happy enough with getting the final word that she leaves the stairwell and she and Kurt find a different one entirely, take advantage of the acoustics and write a song that, if she may say, is really, really good.

Light Up The World is so catchy and happy that she can't help but smile as she sings it, both the first time and then when they sing it in competition. They're not going to win (they don't) but Santana wrote this song with Artie, of all people, and Rachel can tell from the bags under Santana's eyes that the girl was up all night working on it.

As they're packing their things, Rachel walks up behind Santana and hugs her, and Santana laughs as she straightens up and turns around. "I'm sorry I said you're a bad friend," Rachel says, voice muffled by Santana's hair. "I didn't mean it."

"Yeah you did," Santana says. "But you were right. I'm a bitch like, all the time." She pulls away and wraps her arms around herself, and Rachel just watches. "I was just...Whatever. With Brittany, it's..."

"You take your opportunities when you get them," Rachel says knowingly. She really does understand that. She had a whole relationship with Finn based upon it.

"Well, she's in love with Artie, so."

Rachel smiles sympathetically and looks into Santana's suitcase, where there are two fluffy white hotel bathrobes. "Santana," she giggles.

"Whatever," Santana laughs. "One's for you."

Rachel stops caring about the school being charged for the theft.

The first party of the summer is at Santana's house, and Rachel goes because it'll look bad if she doesn't, not because she really wants to. She knows all of glee club will be there, as well as some of the cheerleaders Santana has deemed are 'not too sucky' to lounge in the backyard by her pool while people drink alcohol Rachel doesn't even want to know how they've procured.

She pulls on her most flattering one piece under her denim shorts and tee shirt with the panda screen printed on the front of it. It's loose-fitting, but not frumpy, and she just bought it at Forever 21, so she knows it's in style. She also picks up some raspberry lemonade on her way over, because it's her favourite summertime drink, and it's pink, and her daddies always say you should never turn up to a party empty-handed. And because large bags of licorice are on sale, she buys one of those, too.

The party is in full swing when she arrives. That's because Santana told her it was starting at 8:00 and it's pushing a quarter after nine when Rachel actually walks through the gate to Santana's backyard. She can see Tina and Mike in the pool, and Finn talking to Noah on the other side of the deck. Santana's by the table she's got set up for snacks, talking to Quinn.

Rachel almost turns around and leaves. It's not like anyone's noticed her, so she really could. She could text Santana and say she's not feeling well. Santana would inevitably see through the excuse, though, and honestly, Rachel knows she can handle this. She's been to parties before. There aren't too many people here she's never spoken to before, and even the ones she sees haven't ever really been all that mean to her.

So she walks over to the refreshment table and sets the two cartons of raspberry lemonade into the cooler that's filled with ice, then tears open the licorice and pulls out a piece for herself as Santana smiles at her.

"Hey."

"Hi," Rachel says. She tosses a faint smile Quinn's way, and the girl rolls her eyes. Rachel's so over trying to impress her.

"Nice of you to show up," Santana says, sarcasm dripping from her words.

Rachel shrugs and bites a piece off her licorice. "I was hoping to make more of a grand entrance, but it seems the people you've invited don't understand how to treat a star."

She says it mostly because it's marginally funny, but also because Quinn seems to have zero sense of humour on a good day, and Rachel's gotten to the point where the exaggerated eye rolls she receives from her ex's new (old) girlfriend are amusing to her. Like, how long before Quinn actually hurts herself expressing her disdain for Rachel?

"Rachel!" she hears screamed from across the lawn, drawing everyone's attention to her, even over the music Santana's got blaring from her outdoor speakers. "I love pandas, oh my god!" It's Brittany, and she's rushing over, dripping wet from just getting out of the pool. Her two piece is, well, barely there, which Rachel supposes kind of works on a girl with a body that incredible. Then she flings her arms around Rachel and asks, "How did you know?"

And really, she didn't, and now her top is soaked from Brittany's body and she just laughs as the girl pulls away and everyone stares. "They're cute, right?"

"So cute," Brittany agrees. "You're wet. Come swimming!"

Rachel can't think of a reason why she shouldn't, so she peels off her clothes and leaves them in a pile near where Brittany has said hers and Tina's are, and ignores the way Noah whistles at her from across the yard as she stands near the deep end of the pool and dips her foot in to test the temperature.

Really, the party isn't all that bad. It's better than she expected, really. Noah passes her a bottled vodka cooler at one point, and she sips it slowly through the night, so slowly that she doesn't even get a buzz from it, which is good. It's already been determined that she's spending the night (Santana is definitely buzzed and a while ago insisted Rachel sleeping over). She even has a halfway decent conversation with Finn without Quinn getting jealous (Rachel's word) and bitchy (Santana's). Brittany starts a game of chicken and climbs on top of Sam's shoulders, and Rachel sits out most of the game, until Mike insists that Tina can't play this game 'for crap' and they should team up. So she gets onto his shoulders and ends up somehow pushing Brittany into the water, which feels like a bigger victory than it should, but that's probably because everyone's cheering her on.

Most people have designated drivers, and Artie's mom comes to pick up him, Brittany, Mike and Tina, which Rachel thinks is somewhat odd because of the history, not because Artie and Mike live in the same neighbourhood. Noah and Sam decide to crash at Santana's, Noah claiming the spare room as his and 'forcing' Sam to take the pull out couch in the basement rec room, like it's some sort of punishment or something. Rachel's sleeping in Santana's room, though that's not discussed so much as it is just a given. She's slept in here a several times and it's not as though it's a strange thing for the two of them to share a bed.

The fact that Santana is a lesbian really doesn't affect Rachel whatsoever. It's strange, she thinks, because were Noah to suggest she sleep in the same bed as him for a night, she'd call him insane and possibly ask him to stop making advances. With Santana, she just trusts the girl. They're simply friends. So what if when they sleep in the same bed, they somehow manage to end up cuddling, pressed closely together? It's just something that happens. It's not something they talk about.

Anyway, Rachel's wearing a set of pajamas borrowed from her friend and Santana's standing next to the bed in a tee shirt that Rachel thinks was Matt Rutherford's, once upon a time, and pulling her hair up into a knot at the top of her head.

"Did you see her tonight?" Santana asks, not bothering to look at Rachel.

"Brittany?"

Santana nods and slips between the sheets, keeps her back to Rachel. "She looked really happy, right? Like, with Artie, I mean."

Rachel watches as Santana looks carefully over her shoulder. "Yeah. She's definitely happy. And not just because that's her natural disposition. They're sweet together."

She's being very honest because that's what she and Santana tend to do with one another, even when it hurts to hear the truth. She's really not even all that sure it does hurt Santana anymore.

"Yeah," Santana says. She switches off the light and sighs. Rachel knows Santana definitely had more to drink than her. "It's good. That she's happy."

Rachel leans a little closer and finds Santana's hand, weaves their fingers together. Santana rolls so she's flat on her back, and the two of them lay there side by side, looking up at the ceiling.

When she says she wants to do something instead of laying around at one of their houses, she really doesn't think Santana's going to tell her to dress appropriately for Cedar Point, which means 'nothing with fucking animals on it, Jesus Christ'. Rachel hasn't been to an amusement park in ever, so she doesn't now what 'appropriate' is for this day trip. She settles on denim shorts, a plain black tank top and Converse sneakers, and Santana doesn't tell her to change when she arrives to pick Rachel up, so she figures she chose well.

They stop for iced coffee (kind of a staple of the summer so far, even though they're just three weeks in) on the way out of Lima. Rachel buys, since Santana is driving. Then, as she flips through Santana's iPod and tries to find something fun to listen to on the drive, she mentions never having been to an amusement park, and Santana asks how that's even possible.

"Daddy doesn't like rides and Dad doesn't do well with the heat," Rachel explains, shrugging her shoulder. "I wouldn't have had anyone to come with me."

"But the school takes a trip like, every year."

Rachel laughs and gives Santana a look. "Why on earth would I sign myself up to go on a trip out of town with people who hate me? I'm sure someone would have found a way to humiliate me spectacularly."

Santana doesn't say anything, but nods her head, and then a few moments later, turns up the Aaliyah song Rachel chose. "Well, I'm totally taking your amusement park virginity today. We're gonna do it up right."

Rachel's face flushes and she sips her drink. Statements like that really shouldn't make her uncomfortable, but, well, they kind of do. Santana obviously knows she's actually a virgin, though they really don't talk about sex all that much, considering who Santana is and what her dating history looks like. Sure, they talk about it in the abstract, like just in general, but never really in specifics. Rachel knows details about Santana's sex life that she could handle not knowing, yes, but Santana has never so much as asked Rachel how far she let things go with Finn. She certainly hasn't asked about Rachel's relationship (and...whatever it was she did with him during her breakup with Finn) with Noah. She's already figured out that it's probably because Santana already has all the details from him, which doesn't upset her as much as it probably should. Possibly because there's really nothing to tell.

They get to the park and pay their way, and Santana insists the best way to do the park is to get the water rides out of the way first, so you dry (quickly, in this sun) throughout the day and don't have to sit in wet clothes for too long. Rachel figures this logic is sound. After that, they go on two other roller coasters that are completely terrifying to look at, but not all that scary to be on. Rachel refuses to scream, and Santana tries to act nonchalant about the entire thing, but her hands are gripping the railings so hard her knuckles are white. Rachel doesn't say anything about that. They (yes, both of them) flirt with a group of college-aged boys to get them a better spot in line and no one seems to care. Rachel thinks it's hilarious that Santana can still lead boys on as well as she can, but then again, it's really not all that hard. She doesn't think she's faring too poorly herself, and one guy even asks for her number, but Santana's tugging her hand and starting to jog away, so Rachel just smiles at him over her shoulder.

"That was fun!" Rachel giggles as they slow to a walk near the next ride Santana wants to line up for.

"Yeah. See what happens when you actually pay attention to the opposite sex?" Rachel laughs even harder and Santana rolls her eyes, but she's smiling. "Or, like. Whatever. The sex you're interested in. God."

"They were really cute."

"They were frat douches and I knew we could play them to get ahead in line," Santana says, her tone indicating that Rachel's being naive about the whole thing, which she doesn't think she is. "Look, whatever." Santana weaves their fingers together as they walk side by side. Rachel doesn't know where they're going, but for once, she's just happy to be led. "Like who you want, but those guys were idiots. If you're gonna go for an older guy, at least find one who has half a brain."

"You don't know that one of them didn't. You're being awfully quick to judge."

"The whole point of dating college guys is that they're better than high school boys in like, every way. Since you're not gonna fuck anyone any time soon, you should at least be able to talk about like books or whatever without wanting to smack him."

Rachel laughs far harder than she should.

Towards the end of the day, when they've gone on all the rides they want to and they've had far too much sun exposure, they grab some food and eat it while walking through the park. There's this little store that sells souvenirs and other little trinkets, and Rachel finds little leather bracelets that are braided, and buys two of them while Santana's off looking at something else. When they're outside, she pulls them out of her pocket and hands one to Santana, who looks between the bracelet and Rachel dubiously.

"Seriously?"

"Put it on!" Rachel laughs, and yes, she's far too happy about this. She fastens the bracelet around Santana's wrist, then puts her own on.

Santana looks at her wrist, then drops it by her side again. "This is by far the gayest thing I've ever done, and I've had sex with a girl."

"Shut up," Rachel giggles. "They're friendship bracelets."

"Well, fuck. At least you didn't like, have mine engraved with your initials or something." Rachel gasps. That's such a good idea. "Don't even, Rach. You're lucky I've even got this thing on."

"I am not. You love it."

Santana says nothing, just grins and takes Rachel's hand again, and they head for the exit of the park after deciding they're done for the day.

(It takes only about three days for them both to have tan lines from their bracelets. Neither of them take them off, even so.) 


	3. Chapter 3

Back at the beginning of the summer, Santana 'forced' her to buy a two piece. It's nothing special, really, and it wasn't even all that expensive. It's just a pale pink bikini that isn't too revealing, considering. When she's shopping on her own, she falls in love with a navy blue strapless two piece with white polka dots on it, and pulls out her bank card to pay for it after deciding she looks kind of sexy in the suit.

She wears it to the party Tina's having, and when she pulls her tank top off after noticing basically all the girls are lounging around in nothing more than shorts and their bathing suits, she feels at least a few pairs of eyes on her. Notably, Finn's, Noah's, and Quinn's. Of course, the guys are staring with appreciation (Rachel isn't blind) and Quinn with disgust. But Rachel doesn't care, since Quinn's suit is an unflattering red one piece that makes her legs look thicker than they actually are.

"Christ, Rachel," Noah says as he looks her up and down. Well, at her chest, mostly. He hands her a can of 7-Up and reaches out to set his hand on her hip. "'S'cute."

"Puckerman, you're practically drooling. I don't think 'cute' is the word you're looking for," Santana says pushing his hand away from Rachel's body as the girls laugh. "Who picked this out for you?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "I did. Is it that hard to believe that I'd have good enough taste to choose this?"

"Yes," Quinn says, not even bothering to look in Rachel's direction.

"Oh, shut up, Quinn. Just because she looks better than you do doesn't mean you get to be a bitch to her," Santana snaps, squaring her shoulders to Quinn. "Put your jealousy away for once, alright?" Quinn grabs Finn's hand and pulls him off to another section of the yard. "You look hot, okay? Fuck her."

Rachel wonders when she stopped needing to hear that kind of thing, but she really doesn't anymore. She knows she looks good. She also knows that half the things Quinn says and does are born from insecurity and jealousy. And honestly, Rachel knows how that can get the best of you when you're Finn Hudson's girlfriend. She's not sure if you can call what he has a wandering eye, but his attention isn't ever really solely on his girlfriend, no matter who that might be at any given moment.

She spends a lot of her day watching Santana, which is...Well, it's not new, really, she just does it. Sometimes. Like, when Santana is laughing, or playing volleyball in the pool with Mike, Brittany and Blaine. Rachel doesn't feel like she needs Santana as her security blanket at these types of functions anymore, so they don't even really spend a lot of time talking to one another. It's just nice to see the girl smile so much, especially when Brittany is around and Artie's also there. They haven't talked too much about that whole situation since that party at Santana's. Rachel feels like a bad friend for it, suddenly. She should be checking in to see how Santana's doing with her heartbreak. Then again, she knows that if Santana wants anyone (Rachel included) to know anything, she'll just tell them. Any serious conversations they've had about Santana's personal life have been initiated by her, not Rachel, and honestly, that's the way it should be. Rachel doesn't want to have to pry the information out of anyone; she just wants to be there if and when Santana needs to talk.

Noah comes up behind her on the deck and presses himself against her back, boxes her in against the railing. Rachel turns her head to look at him and he's just wearing a lazy three-beer smile that makes her laugh quietly.

"You really do look hot, you know."

"Thank you," she replies. It doesn't make her uncomfortable that he's touching her like this, not even when his hand moves to her hip and he strokes the skin just above the bikini bottoms she has on. She ditched the shorts an hour ago when she got into the pool and didn't bother putting them back on afterward.

She feels Noah chuckle behind her, then take a half-step back. "She's kinda your keeper, hey?"

Rachel looks across the yard to where Santana's just gotten out of the pool and is drying off with a towel. And yes, she happens to be looking this way and watching pretty closely.

"She's my best friend." It's the first time Rachel's ever said the words out loud, to anyone.

Noah just pats her hip and moves away from her completely, but they start up a conversation on something trivial, and then Santana's making her way over and joining the conversation. Rachel sees something flash through Noah's eyes, but she doesn't know what it is, and she ignores it, anyway, when Santana takes her by the wrist and says they're going swimming.

Rachel discovers (well, realizes) that the last person she kissed was Blaine, and that was way back in February. It's July now, and that is a really, really long time to go without kissing, she thinks. Especially since kissing was a several-times-daily thing while she had a boyfriend, which she kind of always did last year and through her whole summer and most of fall semester.

The thing is, she hasn't really wanted to kiss anyone. She knows that she could go over to Noah's right now and they could make out. According to Santana, he's pretty much at the ready for Rachel if and when she says the word. She doesn't believe for a second that he has actual feelings for her, and if he does, they're probably very base, and most likely born out of how he feels about her, physically. Like, she's a pretty girl with a decent personality, so he can go for it, or something.

Anyway, she doesn't want to kiss Noah. He's good, yes, but she's never been the type of girl who could compartmentalize enough to just kiss someone for the sake of kissing someone. As nice as it would feel to have his lips and hands on her, she knows it'd just complicate their friendship, and really, that's the very last thing she wants. She finally has friends, and she's really in no position to start mucking up her relationships just because she thinks it's odd to have gone so long without some physical contact. After the last time they made out, she vowed to make smarter decisions on who she kisses and why.

Santana's supposed to come over for dinner because Rachel's dads are barbecuing hamburgers and Santana's dad, a cardiologist, doesn't agree with barbecues. Rachel doesn't totally understand that and thinks it's rather extreme; there are plenty of healthy things to cook on the grill. For instance, she just finished chopping the veggies they're going to be cooking, and they're roasting potatoes using a recipe they found online that uses only a teaspoon of sesame oil and a handful of yummy herbs and spices.

It's just a little strange that Santana hasn't arrived yet, so Rachel heads up to her room to check her phone. There's an apology in a text message, saying Santana won't be coming over. Rachel thinks it's odd that there's not more of an explanation, so she dials Santana's number, and the girl picks up on the second ring.

"Everything okay?" Rachel asks, trying to sound casual even as she paces in her bedroom.

"Yeah. Fine. I just can't come over."

"Okay."

Apparently she doesn't hide her disappointment well enough, because Santana says, "Fuck, Rachel. What?"

"Nothing!"

"Bullshit. Say what you want to say," Santana commands.

"It's just...We had plans, and now you're being very vague." Rachel checks herself out in her mirror. Maybe if she tries to do something mundane, she'll stop sounding so on edge.

"I have...I don't know. A date. Or something."

It's mostly mumbled, and Rachel's torn between feeling surprised, hurt, and angry. "A date? With Brittany?"

"There are other girls in the world, you know. No, not with Brittany," Santana says, sounding more annoyed than she should, considering she isn't the one being blown off.

"Okay. Well. Have fun."

"Don't be pissed. It was just dinner," Santana says, and yes, she's right. It was just dinner, and they see each other all the time. They'll probably see one another tomorrow. Rachel just doesn't like last minute changes in plans. "Sorry, alright?"

"It's no problem," Rachel says, forcing a smile. She doesn't want it to be a problem, so she'll just fake like everything's fine and maybe it'll start to be.

After she's hung up, she heads downstairs and tells her dads Santana won't be coming, and they insist she call over a friend or two, since there's so much food. She knows there's really not that much, and that they're trying to save her evening, so she dials Noah, and then she dials Kurt, who she knows isn't busy because Blaine is away counseling a performing arts camp for two weeks. The boys come over, and maybe she's the only girl at the table, but it's fun anyway, even if in the back of her mind, she's constantly wondering how Santana's night is going and how much she'll have to hear about it later.

Santana calls her after two days have passed, and they meet for iced coffee and it's all very awkward, the two of them sitting there with the hum of the coffee shop around them. Santana stares at her cup and Rachel stares at Santana, and she honestly just wishes she didn't care about what Santana's about to tell her. Because honestly, they're not leaving this place without Rachel knowing how that date went.

"God, this is so fucking stupid," Santana says finally, rolling her eyes at herself, Rachel thinks, more than anything. "Her name's Cara. She's like, 19, I think? Whatever. She's hot and she asked me out, so I said yes."

Rachel just nods her head. She smiles a bit. Really, all she wants is her friend to be happy. That said, if anything were going to come of this 'relationship', Santana wouldn't be giving her the Cliff's notes.

"Did you have a good time?"

Santana shrugs. "It was alright. She paid. She kept on calling me 'cute' and like, talking about how I'm not even really out yet, which is kind of bullshit. Anyway, it annoyed me. Like she's some kind of lesbian whisperer or something and she was doing me some big fucking favour."

Rachel laughs, which makes Santana smile, finally. "I thought you said it was alright."

Santana's smile morphs into a smirk and she raises one brow. "D'you miss the part where I said she's hot?" Rachel rolls her eyes. "I've never kissed anyone but Britt. I mean, a girl."

"Right."

"And it was good, or whatever, but like, you know when you kiss a guy and it totally makes you hot, but other than that, there's nothing there? It was like that."

"So, no second date?" Rachel asks. She finds she's gripping the edge of her seat with her hand a little harder than can be considered normal.

"No. And I feel like a bitch for bailing on you."

Rachel actually laughs. Honestly, the whole thing is water under the bridge. "Don't worry about that. My fathers, Kurt and I took the first steps in turning Noah into a Broadway aficionado."

"Oh god," Santana laughs. "Guess I should be apologizing to him, not you."

They end up at Rachel's place, but they agree that it's too hot to sit outside, so they sip Diet Coke in the air conditioned comfort of the basement and do basically nothing, until Noah calls and says he and Mike are bored, and they come over with a copy of Anchorman on DVD and a bag of dill pickle chips. Rachel lays on the floor with her head on Santana's thigh as the girl sits with her back leaning against Noah's legs. There are worse ways to spend an afternoon than watching a movie with your best friend finger-combing your hair.

After the guys have left, Rachel's dads come home and say it's too hot to cook, so they order in pad thai and the girls eat in the basement with a marathon of Pretty Little Liars playing on the television. Rachel's only seen a couple episodes of the show, but Santana cops to following it pretty closely and really enjoying it.

They're sitting on the sofa, close together like they usually do, and Santana's arm drapes over the back of the couch, so Rachel leans into it a bit. Her dads call downstairs and say they're going to meet Brent and Tom for drinks, and they're not sure when they'll be home, but they're locking the door behind them.

Santana's hand slides down Rachel's arm and lands on her waist, her fingers stroking lightly through Rachel's shirt. It feels really nice, and they've shared a bed enough times that Rachel really doesn't think anything of it. They're rather affectionate with one another, she supposes, when they're just sitting around alone together. They're best friends. Well, at least Santana is Rachel's best friend. And given the amount of time they've spent together and the things they've said and done together since this friendship started, Rachel thinks the same must be true the other way around as well.

She knows the kiss is going to happen before it does. Santana's free hand comes up to sit on her collarbone, first, then slides up Rachel's neck and turns her head so their faces are close together. When Santana's thumb slides along Rachel's jawbone, her heart stutters in her chest and she watches Santana's eyes. They're settled on Rachel's lips.

And it's nice. It's softer than Rachel expects, or even really knew Santana was capable of. Their lips fit together pleasantly and sit there for a moment before Santana moves hers, taking Rachel's bottom lip between her own before pulling away, then going back in for more, turning her body a bit as she does. Their knees press together, and Santana slides her thigh between Rachel's the slightest bit. The smoothness of Santana's thigh against her own makes Rachel flinch a bit, and Santana stills and pulls back abruptly, her hands falling away from Rachel's body completely.

"Fuck," she mutters, right before licking her lips. Rachel doesn't know what just happened, really, let alone what to say after it. "Fuck."

"Santana."

"God. I'm sorry." Santana stands and looks about two seconds from tears, and Rachel, for once in her life (it's worst timing ever, possibly) can't even seem to make her mouth work. "Just...Forget that happened, or something."

Rachel hears the front door slam and touches her fingers to her lips, and all she can wonder is if Santana felt the same kind of nothing kissing her as she did kissing that other girl.

She has that intense feeling in her stomach every time she thinks of the way Santana held her face and caressed her bottom lip the way she did. She's trying not to think about it, because Santana isn't taking her calls and she's worried about what this all means for their friendship.

She gets a text late at night after a day and a half of getting nothing from Santana. It just reads 'Not yet' and Rachel sighs and sets her phone on her bedside table. It's not enough. She wants a conversation. A long one.

She also wants to know why she can't stop thinking about it. Why she enjoyed it so much. Why she can practically feel Santana's hands on her, everywhere, or see the way Santana might look at her if Rachel let her lay her out on the couch in the basement. She wants to know what it'd feel like to have Santana hovering over her and giving her that tiny little smile she sometimes sees directed her way.

She texts back 'Okay' but she feels anything but.

When she dips her hand into her panties and finds herself - not surprisingly - wet, she works her nerves with her fingers, and thinks of how that kiss could have evolved. She thinks of Santana's hand doing this, not her own, and she gasps her release at the memory of the way Santana'd stared at her lips like that right before they kissed.

She's home alone and having a nap the day Santana comes over, presumably to actually talk to her for the first time in over a week. (And yes, it's been difficult to explain to her fathers why Santana is suddenly so absent; really, what's she supposed to say?)

But she feels the bed dip and wakes up, and Santana is sitting there looking nervous and not even...She's staring at the space between their bodies instead of at Rachel, even though she's awake now. Rachel swipes her finger under her eyes and pushes herself up so she's at least halfway sitting up, her back against her pillows and her throw blanket over her body.

"I was sleeping," she says, which is possibly the stupidest thing she could ever say. The two of them haven't spoken in days and she begins the communication by stating the obvious in a voice that's too quiet and too vulnerable for the things she's sure Santana is going to say to her.

But Santana just says, "I know," in a non-teasing way, without even looking at Rachel.

"How are you?"

"Fucked." Rachel just lets out a breathy laugh, because, well, that sounds fairly accurate, actually. "I don't know what the hell to say to you."

"Is that why you haven't said anything?" Rachel asks quietly. Santana shrugs her shoulder, so that's a yes. "I hate not talking to you." Santana sighs like she's frustrated with this conversation already, closes her eyes and leans her head back against Rachel's headboard. "I don't know why you can't just..."

"Because I can't," Santana interrupts. "I'm such a mess, and I don't want to drag you into my bullshit. You're not even..." Rachel looks and sees a bead of sweat at Santana's temple. It's hot out, yes, but that's not what it's from. Santana's literally worried herself into a sweat. "You're not gay, and I'm so fucking stupid."

"Santana, you're not stupid. It's okay."

"It's not okay," Santana snaps, almost venomously. She shoots Rachel a glare. "I just do stupid shit, just because I want to, and I don't even think about what it's going to..." She presses her palm to her eye.

Rachel feels helpless, because honestly, she doesn't know how to say she enjoyed that kiss, or to explain that she felt more kissing Santana than she's felt in a long time. She surely can't tell the girl about touching herself while thinking - imagining - that it was...She's not gay, but she's really, really confused. And the upsetting thing (well, one of them) is that if it were anyone else who'd kissed her, Rachel would have gone to Santana to talk about it. Because it was her, they can't talk about it, apparently, without being completely uncomfortable.

And she realizes, now that she's just slightly more awake, that it's completely ludicrous.

"You wanted to," Rachel says, pushing herself up more and crossing her legs indian-style under her blanket.

Santana nods. "I wanted...I mean, fuck, Rachel. It's like I can't even be friends with girls anymore without like developing feelings, and you're not even...At least with Britt we were sort of on the same page, but..."

"Santana, can you please stop thinking in labels?" Rachel asks, sounding every bit as exhausted as she's made herself thinking about all this. "You have feelings."

"I went on that date because you're scaring the fuck out of me. I'm not supposed to like you. Friends is one thing, but I..." She takes a breath and looks at the ceiling. Rachel watches her do it. "I wear a fucking bracelet for you, Rachel."

She holds up her wrist and the braided leather there actually makes Rachel smile, because if she hasn't taken it off, then maybe there's some sort of weird hope for them. She doesn't even know what she wants from this friendship (or, relationship may be a more accurate term) but it's not ending, and that seems to be the most important thing.

She reaches over and curls her fingers around Santana's wrist so her palm is covering the bracelet.

"I liked it," she admits quietly, her eyes on her hand, the contrast of the tones of their skin. "When you kissed me."

"Shut up, Rachel."

"I did." She looks up and Santana's just staring at her. "I didn't realize it until...Well, I've had a few days to think about it, and I realize that I wasn't hurt that you went out with that girl." She flexes her fingers against Santana's wrist. "I was jealous." Santana blinks. "Kind of like you are every time Noah checks me out."

She's never actually seen Santana blush before this moment. It makes her want to smile. "Shut up."

"You know me," Rachel says, and Santana looks at her, finally. Really looks at her. Their eyes meet and Rachel feels something flutter in her stomach; a strange and terrifying mix of nerves and arousal. "You can't just kiss me and expect...You can't just do it once."

"Rach, I'm such a...You're just..."

Really, the only way Rachel can think to make Santana see that she's serious and not out of her mind or craving attention, is to tug on her wrist to pull her closer, and press her lips against Santana's. Santana moans into the kiss immediately, even though it's just light and Rachel's waiting to be pushed away, if she's being honest. It sounds as though Santana has been waiting for this, wanting it and thinking about doing it again. Rachel feels a mixture of relief and affection when Santana turns to her a little more and sinks into the kiss, brings her hand up to Rachel's cheek, then pushes it into her hair. Her fingers rub gently against Rachel's scalp, forcing her to let out a borderline embarrassing purring sound she almost wishes she could have held in.

Then there's a sound that Rachel hears as almost pained, and it's coming from Santana, who pulls her lips away, shakes her head and says, "Rachel, I can't..."

"Santana," Rachel breathes out, her hand coming, daringly, to rest on Santana's thigh, just below the hem of the little shorts the girl is wearing. "Just..."

Santana leans over a little more, then, and the two of them sink down in the bed as Santana's tongue darts out to pry Rachel's lips apart. It feels so, so good, better than...Just better. Santana's lips are soft and gentle, even though she's kissing a bit harder now, and the pads of her fingers aren't calloused from sports or guitar or video games. When Rachel slides her hand (a little shakily, but she's preoccupied and can't be blamed for that, can she?) up Santana's thigh and onto her hip, the girl shifts her lower half and their legs bump together, and all Rachel can really think is that they are just really not close enough.

"God," Santana moans, pulling away. She presses her forehead against Rachel's and rubs their noses together, which is kind of sweet, really. She brushes their lips together a few times, too. "You taste amazing. Has anyone ever told you that?"

Rachel whimpers, because no. She can only shake her head, and realizes that was likely a rhetorical question when Santana chuckles.

Rachel moves her leg, which is an invitation, even if Santana doesn't realize that yet. It's stupid, because she's never even let a boy touch her breasts, really (Finn's large hand just sitting there doesn't really count, if you ask her), and Santana has yet to touch them, but Rachel's asking for more, and she doesn't even know...It's not like she knows how this works, other than what she's read in books and online. Even then it was never two girls, though, god, she doesn't know why not. This is kind of spectacular. Then Santana's hand moves down Rachel's neck as they kiss (and god, Rachel's just so aroused thinking of what else Santana can do with her tongue). Her fingers trail over Rachel's collarbone, then her hand settles right over her breast, massages gently, and Rachel finds herself arching up to feel more of it. She pulls her mouth away when her lungs start to burn, and she takes a deep breath as Santana kisses down the side of her neck.

She sort of feels like she's not doing enough for her partner, so she dares to slip her hand up under Santana's top, and when the girl lets out a low moan, Rachel moves it up further, eventually brushing her thumb against Santana's breast through the bikini top she's got under her shirt.

"Rachel," Santana says against Rachel's collarbone. "This is going really fast." Rachel doesn't see how that's a bad thing, so she wiggles her body a bit, then smiles and wets her lips. "Not for me. I mean, fuck. I'm...so good right now."

Rachel giggles (it sounds overly girlish and she can't decide if that's embarrassing or appropriate right now) and lets her thumb dip underneath Santana's bathing suit top. "It feels good to me."

Santana grins. "That's because I'm really fucking good at what I do, baby." Then she pulls her hand off Rachel's chest and sets it on her side. "Don't pout."

"Don't stop."

"Fuck," Santana groans, pressing her lips to Rachel's again. "You can't say that. Because I won't, Rachel, and..."

Rachel fits her hand around the back of Santana's neck and pulls, and they're both laying flat on their backs and kissing a little harder after Rachel says, "Good," in a voice she's never used with anyone before. It must be sexy or seductive or something, because Santana slides her leg over Rachel's and is very nearly straddling her thigh, and for a second, Rachel wishes she could see the whole picture, what they look like on this bed, because it has to be beautiful, doesn't it?

Santana pulls back far enough to tug her own shirt over her head and drop it over the side of the bed and onto the floor. Rachel swallows hard and tries to remember how to breathe. She's seen Santana in this bikini before, not to mention the fact that the girl is still wearing shorts, but it's so very different this time than any other.

"Take this off," Santana murmurs against Rachel's lips, pulling at the tee shirt Rachel has on. Santana stops her when she reaches for the bottom of her own shirt, though. "Stop. Wait. Is this some kind of experiment or something?"

Rachel sighs, in frustration, mostly. "Does it matter?"

"I'm kind of fucking stupid for you, so yeah, it matters."

"I have essentially two friends, Santana. You and Noah. Don't you think it's fairly telling that I'm choosing to be here, like this, with you, and not him?" Santana doesn't seem to know what to say to that. "I wouldn't risk our friendship over an experiment."

Santana kisses her gently. "So you're..."

"Oh, my god," Rachel giggles. "I can't believe I'm the one saying shut up and kiss me."

Apparently goading is an effective tactic with Santana, because she presses her mouth firmly to Rachel's and slips her tongue inside without warning. They only part so Rachel can finally pull her top off. Santana's hand comes back down to caress Rachel's breast, and then she tugs her bra strap down and pulls at the cup, and Rachel's stomach coils when Santana looks her in the eye before glancing down and licking her lips at the sight of Rachel's mostly bared breast. Rachel closes her eyes tightly as a tongue circles her nipple, and Santana says, "Shit. Breathe, Rachel."

"I can't." She whines it and Santana pulls away and grins down at her. "How did you get so good at this?" Santana laughs quietly and slides her fingertips down Rachel's bare side. "I feel like I'm burning up from the inside out."

"Yeah?" Santana asks, nipping at the skin of Rachel's breast with her teeth. She looks up and Rachel slips her hand into the girl's hair. "I haven't even made you come yet." She honestly doesn't know if she's blushing, or just flushed, and yes, she believes there is a difference. She hears Santana laughing again. "Holy fuck, you're cute. It's stupid."

She wants to be offended, but then Santana is kissing her again, and there's a hand sliding along the waistband of her shorts, and no, she is not really in a position to start complaining.

The truth is, she's a little scared of doing something wrong. She's never done this with a boy, let alone with a girl, so she's just really trying not to put her hand in the wrong place or bite too hard or accidentally knee Santana or something. That'd be incredibly embarrassing. In effect, she just really doesn't want to do anything that's going to make Santana stop.

She tries to turn just a bit so she can slide her hand up Santana's thigh, but the girl pins her down by the shoulder and says, "Don't. Just lay back," and Rachel nods and lets Santana move so she's pressed intimately against Rachel's side. She does dare to move her thigh a bit between Santana's legs, until she's pressed right there and Santana moans and rolls her hips.

Any sense of control she thought she had disappears when Santana's hand moves down into Rachel's shorts, slipping right into her panties. She's not really doing anything with it. Rachel assumes that's so she can get used to the idea of someone's fingers being so close like this. Really, she just wants more, so she says Santana's name and flexes her thigh again, and that seems to work.

She gasps when Santana really touches her for the first time, long, slender fingers moving over her. "You're so wet. God, you do want this, don't you?" Santana asks, as though she hadn't really believed it until now. Rachel just nods her head and Santana kisses her sweetly, stilling her hand until she's, well, not anymore. "Tell me...I know you've never."

"Just..." Rachel arches her hips and spreads her legs a little wider. "Yeah."

And really, who needs words when you have this? Santana circles Rachel's clit and then backs off, fingers dipping lower and then sliding back up, and it becomes very hard to think of anything that isn't what's happening on this bed right now. She closes her eyes and breathes, smells Santana and sex and feels hot all over, feels her stomach jump when there's pressure on her nerves again. Santana isn't even really kissing her anymore, is just idly pressing her lips to whatever part of Rachel's upper body she wants - with no complaints at all.

Then she rolls her hips again, pressing herself down on Rachel's thigh. They moan in tandem and there's a moment where Rachel tries to apologize or offer something, but Santana beats her to words, which are just impossible to find right now. "I want to...Let me take them off."

Rachel gets what is probably an inappropriate amount of satisfaction upon hearing the hitch in Santana's breath and the way her voice is shaking. She also doesn't wait for permission (as if she needs it) before pulling Rachel's shorts down and off, then immediately pressing her hand back inside Rachel's panties. She wants to say her panties can go, too, but she's perfectly fine with this, right now, and when she looks down and sees Santana's hand moving beneath the cotton, she moans loudly and snaps her eyes shut, letting her head fall back against the pillows. She's almost embarrassed that it's taken her no time at all to get this close. She's also never wanted to come quite so desperately, ever.

"You look...Fuck." Santana rubs in just the right spot, and Rachel rolls her hips, chasing an orgasm that isn't coming quickly enough. "So fucking hot. I wanna watch you come," she confesses lowly, her fingers moving a little more quickly, rubbing Rachel with the perfect pressure. "Come, baby."

"Santana." She feels her throat get tight as she fights to keep her breathing at least somewhat steady.

"Yeah." Santana presses herself down on Rachel's thigh. She slows her hand down and Rachel's just about to whine when Santana slides two fingers alongside her clit, commands, "Come," and Rachel's mouth drops open as she lets go, her whole body tensing and releasing. It spreads through her faster than when she does this for herself, but Santana strokes her through it, lazily, and draws it out until Rachel feels like she's sinking down into the bed with her eyes closed. "Fuck." Santana kisses her hard and Rachel reaches up and sets her hand on the back of the girl's neck to keep her close, keep them pressed together. "That was the sexiest thing."

Rachel can't really do anything more than hum in agreement as she tries to breathe like a normal person. She somehow keeps herself from doing something embarrassing like saying thank you. Santana pulls her hand away and wipes her sticky fingers across the front of Rachel's panties, which, well, isn't completely ideal, but she doesn't want to complain after that. And Santana is still pressed against her, and Rachel really, really wants to feel...She's always wanted to know what it feels like to help another person find release.

"Kiss me," she says, and Santana gives her this smile that's just too beautiful for right now, and leans down. "I want to do it for you."

She half-expects a protest, but then she realizes who she's dealing with, and she actually finds herself giggling when Santana slings her leg over Rachel's hips. She's straddling Rachel and looking down at her, then she smirks (that's a more familiar expression, and it kind of puts Rachel at ease) and pushes her hand up underneath Rachel's bra.

"You know, you really should just take it off," Santana says. Rachel laughs again and sits up as much as she can with another person on top of her. Santana unclasps her bra for her and tugs it away, and there are hands on her breasts immediately, which Rachel thinks is kind of backwards, since she's already had her turn.

"You now."

Santana laughs as she undoes the knot at the back of her neck. "You're like, weirdly fucking hot when you're bossy."

"I'm also mostly nude and you're straddling me."

"And I just got you off, so," Santana drawls out, pulling her top off. She leans back, then, and pushes her shorts and panties down her legs. Rachel's stomach tightens again at the sight of the girl naked in front of her. "Touch me now."

She leans down and sets her hands above Rachel's shoulders on the mattress, sips at her lips as their breasts brush together, which Rachel finds to be far more erotic than it really should be. "You're beautiful," she says before she can stop herself.

"Also really fucking wet, so, please."

"Um. I don't know...I mean, it's not like I've ever done this before. I'm..." Rachel looks up into Santana's eyes and ignores the little grin on the girl's lips. "What?"

"Just..." She reaches for Rachel's hand and brings it between them, and Rachel takes the hint (it's not as if it was subtle) and presses her fingers against Santana. There's a pleasant and warm wetness there, just like when she touches herself. "Yeah. And if you can't...I'll just ride your hand or something."

Rachel sees that as a challenge, and she does not like to lose.

Minutes later, Santana has her face pressed against Rachel's neck, letting go and repeating Rachel's name over and over. It's oddly empowering. It also feels really, really hot to be pressed together like this. Part of her wishes Santana had gotten her completely naked, but she knows the girl was just trying to be delicate with her, since she's never experienced anything like this before.

"So good," Santana murmurs, lips against Rachel's jaw.

Frankly, Rachel's wondering if it's too soon to do it all again.

She must be grinning too widely, because Santana looks down at her and asks, "What?" like she knows there's something on Rachel's mind.

"I just gave the hottest girl in school an orgasm."

Santana laughs really hard and Rachel can't stop smiling as they trade kisses.

Forgive her for being proud.

Rachel's the one who gets scared. Maybe that's not as surprising as she thinks it is, but even so. They're hanging out a her place one day and she can hear her dad coming up the stairs, and she pushes Santana away (gently) and crosses her legs as she lays there on the bed. Moments ago, Santana's hand had been inching up her thigh, and really, she doesn't think her dad needs to see that no matter whose hand it is. Inappropriate is inappropriate.

Santana isn't upset with her at all, which makes sense, since Santana's parents are still completely in the dark about her sexuality. Rachel knows it's going to take time for Santana to be comfortable enough to have that particular conversation. Which just makes her question, oh, everything. What are they going to be like at school, or in front of their friends? They're kind of hiding from their parents, and Rachel was not made for relationships that take place solely behind closed doors. She learned that lesson with Finn the first time around. She's not going to do that again. No, she's not going to yell it from the rooftops that she and Santana are whatever they are, and she doesn't even feel the need to display affection publicly, but she doesn't want to act like they're nothing.

She doesn't honestly believe she's gay. She identifies more as bi-sexual, if she has to put a label on it, which people - Santana included, probably - are going to ask her to do. She just likes who she likes and she doesn't really care about the rest of it. It's not as if that's a difficult concept to understand.

"What happens when school starts?" Rachel asks. It's imminent. They go back in a week and a half.

"'S'that a real question?"

Santana has her pinned against the wall of the pool and is currently staring down at Rachel's breasts. She possibly could have picked a better time to bring this up.

"I mean with us." And yes, it'd be easier to pay attention to this conversation if Santana wasn't sliding her thigh between Rachel's. "Eyes up here," she giggles.

Santana has this grin for when she's been caught thinking something impure. It's so sexy that Rachel generally can't help herself and ends up initiating things.

"I don't know what you're asking me," Santana admits. She continues talking even when Rachel opens her mouth. "And not just 'cause I was staring at your fantastic tits."

She can feel her cheeks flushing. "You're crude."

"Honest."

"Can we..." She puts her hands on Santana's face and they're both laughing as Rachel forces the girl to look her in the eye. "Please talk about this? We've only been this for, what, two weeks? I'm scared you're going to..."

"What? Ignore you at school? We've been friends for like a fucking year."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "That's not accurate, but also, no. I'm not worried you're going to ignore me. I don't want to hide or anything, but I don't want everyone to know our private business."

Santana shifts her thigh and Rachel sucks in a breath, then glowers. That is not what she meant. "I really don't fucking care about anyone else," Santana insists. She sounds like she means it. "I know that's like, your whole deal, wanting everyone to like you and everything. Fact is, they don't. So you should stop caring about what they think anyway." She's embarrassed, for some reason, and she looks away and wants to move and put space between them, but then Santana puts a hand on Rachel's cheek and forces eye contact. "Not to make myself out to be even more awesome than I am, but this is like the happiest I've seen you in a long time."

"I am happy," Rachel says, allowing herself to smile.

"So who gives a shit about anyone else?" Rachel sighs. Santana's hand moves down to cover Rachel's breast under the water, and her eyes follow that path. "I'm not saying it'll be easy, but..."

"But?" Rachel prompts when Santana's voice trails.

"Okay, if you wanna have conversations, you're gonna have to put clothes on. Jesus, I love your body."

Rachel bites her lip (only partly because she knows Santana loves it, she swears) and idly plays with the tie at the back of Santana's neck. "I think, um, maybe this conversation has run its course." Santana laughs loudly; apparently there was really not subtlety there either. "And we should go to your room."

"Why's'at?" Santana brushes her lips across Rachel's jaw, down her neck and across her collarbone, then tugs down Rachel's bikini top and circles a nipple with her thumb. "Tell me why, baby."

"Because," Rachel giggles, pushing Santana away and adjusting her top. "I don't feel like putting on a show for your neighbours."

Santana grabs her by the hips and pulls her so they're pressed front to back, and slips her hand over the front of Rachel's bikini bottoms. "There are so many things I wanna do to you."

Rachel whimpers. God, that's sexy. "Okay," she says, kind of breathlessly.

Santana pushes her towards the steps of the pool and they get out one after the other. Their hair is dripping when they get inside, so they lay down on the floor of Santana's bedroom so they don't get the sheets soaking wet. Santana makes a filthy joke Rachel finds at least mildly arousing.

Sitting in the coffee shop after school, Rachel looks up from her book and chews her lip as she watches Santana doing her trig homework. Her hair's pulled into a ponytail today, so Rachel can see her neck and everything, and then Santana reaches for her coffee cup without looking up. She catches Rachel staring as she sips, though, and raises her brow.

They came here with Kurt, but he was only here to meet Blaine and left about 15 minutes after arriving. It took him about two days into the school year to notice something was going on between the two girls. He's been very supportive and hasn't gossiped to anyone. It's almost a miracle.

Again, they're not trying to keep it a secret, but they're really not advertising it either. It's no one else's business. Rachel actually really likes how adult they're being about it. And she really loves that they can just sit like this and work together and drink coffee. She doesn't know Santana's plans for next year, but last year they actually talked about New York a lot. It's too early to worry about it. Sometimes Rachel does anyway.

"What?" Santana asks, as though she's unnerved or something.

Rachel finished her homework during her spare period before rehearsal. Now she's sitting here going over her glee notes. For one thing, if they have any hopes at all of winning Nationals, they need to start preparing now. For another, they've got a week to bring whatever they want to the table as options for Sectionals.

"We should do a duet," Rachel says, trying not to smile too widely. Santana doesn't look enthused. "We're the two strongest singers! There's no way it can be bad."

"Except you like shitty music. We're not singing a duet."

"You're smiling," Rachel gushes, leaning forward a bit.

"Because you're cute, not because I want to do it." Santana sets down her coffee cup and shakes her head. "Stop fucking looking at me like that. I'm not going to cave." Rachel's not going to stop, because as far as she knows, no one can say no to this look. Santana goes back to her work, but looks up moments later and sighs. "Well, like, what song would you want to sing if I agreed to this, which I'm not."

Rachel smiles way too widely and bounces a little in her seat, which makes Santana glare just the slightest bit. "Well, ideally it'd be Enchanted by Taylor Swift."

Santana shakes her head immediately, effectively wiping the smile off Rachel's face.

"Fuck no. I am not ever singing Taylor Swift."

"Why not?"

"Because. I mean, yeah, I find her as ironically adorable as the next guy, but her music is just awful."

Rachel pouts and looks down at the sheet music in front of her. "It is not."

"Come on. What else?" Santana asks, trying to peer at Rachel's notes.

"Well, I also thought of Celine's..."

"No. Next."

Rachel rolls her eyes, but she's smiling anyway. "There's a Rihanna song," she says. It's further down the list, but she knows well enough that Santana might be able to get on board with this one more so than, say, the Whitney ballad in the number five slot on her list of 15 songs. "Rehab. The one with Justin Timberlake and the video in the trailer in the desert."

Santana looks half-irritated and half-amused. "I know the song. I'm still not singing it." Rachel knows she looks childish when she knits her brow and crosses her arms. Santana only laughs. "Look, it's just really not my thing to..."

"You sang for Brittany."

There. There it is. Yes, that's partly what this is about. Yes, their voices blend wonderfully and they'll look gorgeous performing together, but that's all on the surface. It's not like she wants to play a game or anything, but Rachel does want to be the girl Santana sings to. She also kind of wants to subtly tell people she's the only one Santana sings to, even if they don't really understand how deep that runs.

She's being petty and she doesn't care.

"And look where that got me," Santana says, more diplomatically than Rachel probably deserves. "Maybe I just wanna watch you sing a solo."

Rachel glares. "Don't pander to my ego."

Santana reaches out and sets her hand on Rachel's, strokes her thumb along the girl's knuckles and watches their hands instead of making eye contact. "Look, I don't need to sing at you, okay? You know how I feel. I don't have to beat you over the head with it. Christ. Our like, weekly state of the union discussions mean I don't have to use music to let you know what I'm thinking."

Rachel fights a smile and turns her hand over so they're palm to palm. Her fingertips graze the leather bracelet on Santana's wrist. "I love our discussions." Santana rolls her eyes again, grin planted on her lips. "And I never thought of it that way." Santana shrugs, and Rachel expects her to pull her hand away, but it doesn't happen. "Will you sing the Rihanna song with me anyway? Just for me?"

Santana laughs and gives Rachel that look she wears when she wants to kiss. Rachel quite likes that look. She squeezes Rachel's hand once, then lets it go, sips her coffee and picks up her pink mechanical pencil again.

"Fine," she says with her eyes on her work again.

Rachel presses their feet together under the table and smiles a little at the way Santana shakes her head fondly. 


End file.
